just like that
by astarisms
Summary: Bad breakups and broken trust don't make for good stories to tell your grandchildren. Childhood sweethearts meet again under chance circumstances. Can they repair a relationship long in ruins? Human AU. Rating will go up later.
1. Prologue

" _I don't know who's gonna kiss you when I'm gone so I'm gonna love you now, like it's all I have._ "

The Abidan family, with the pastoral head of the house and his hoard of Bibically named children had moved into the house next to Natalie's just before she entered kindergarten. While the thought of new kids had excited her, she was disheartened when she'd first met them.

The oldest, Michael, was snobby and rude and she had taken an instant disliking to him. Gabriel was quiet, and preferred to sit and practice his writing in his journal instead of playing. The two girls were only babies, and as cute as they were, they couldn't climb trees or braid flower crowns with her.

It was only after that she met the middle child, Lucifer. Named for the devil and with a temperament to match, she had watched, bemused, as he had grumbled and griped at his father with an expression much too disgruntled for a boy of only six.

The closest to her age and her last hope, she'd endeavored to be his friend anyways. He had been difficult, until she'd shared her ice cream with him one exceptionally hot day. Alex had found them sitting on the porch and covered in chocolate, Natalie giggling until she was pink in the face and Lucifer cracking the first smile Alex had seen from the boy.

They had been inseparable ever since.

After 11 years of friendship, 4 years of crushes, and a year of flirting, they began dating. It was an unofficial process, with no talk of actually dating or being one another's boyfriend or girlfriend, but it had happened nonetheless.

It was during his junior and her sophomore years, prom was coming up and as little as Lucifer cared for the whole shebang, his family was insistent that he go. They had pushed and prodded since the end of his sophomore year, about what an experience prom was.

Going was non-negotiable, as much as Lucifer abhorred the idea.

So it was sitting in Natalie's room, Lucifer tossing a small foam ball into the air while seated in the beanbag chair he'd claimed as his, when he had asked her to go with him. 'Asked' being the loose term, as the way he'd phrased it had been less of a request and more of a demand.

Natalie had given him a sideways glance, the edges of her lips turning up against her will when she asked if he was serious. He caught the ball once more and turned his eyes to her, nearly gold in the light filtering in from her window.

"Yeah. Go with me. I have to and it seems like something you'd like, so."

When prom finally rolled around, there had been no more talk of it since. He'd let her experience a full hour of it and then dragged her out of the venue and a few short blocks away to a small park, unoccupied this late and on such a busy night.

Natalie admired the view under the moonlight, and when she turned her head to look at him, he kissed her. She sighed blissfully against his lips and that's how they spent the rest of the night.

It had been as easy as breathing to go from friends to dating.

The next two years were arguably the best of their young lives. They were happy together, happier than they had ever been, though Lucifer was hard-pressed to let it show.

After so many years by each other's sides though, Natalie was no fool to the subtle emotions that most would miss playing in his eyes. She'd smile and bring his hand up to kiss his palm everytime she noticed him looking, and everytime he'd roll his eyes to hide how they softened as he shook his hand from hers and pull her against his side.

They knew each other better than they knew themselves. They knew what made each other happy. They knew what subjects to avoid and which buttons were okay to press. They never hid anything from each other, or if they tried, it was easy for the other to determine when something was wrong. Because of this, it was rare that they had ever argued seriously.

Which was why the last few months of their relationship were rocky. The months leading up to and following Lucifer's graduation from high school, he acted strange, which Natalie took notice to immediately. She chalked it up to being nervous for the big change from high school to college at first, but after awhile of him avoiding her questions and the way he refused to meet her eyes when she asked if he'd picked a university yet, she knew it was something more.

A week after his graduation, Natalie was tired of being skirted around and lied to. She sat facing him on her bed.

"We tell each other everything," she had said, a twinge of hurt in her voice she couldn't hide. "So what's so groundbreaking that you can't tell me?"

Lucifer was quiet for a long time. So long, Natalie suspected he wasn't going to answer her at all, and frustrated, she climbed off her bed. She had made it to the door before she heard him speak behind her, so softly she wasn't sure she'd heard him right.

"- leaving."

"...What?"

"I'm leaving," he said again, louder, turning his head to look at her. "For college."

Natalie's shoulders slumped and she couldn't help the relieved smile and giggles.

"Duh, dude. I know you didn't plan on staying in the city. What's the big deal? We can still visit each other and-"

"I'm leaving _the country_ , Natalie. I'm going to Oxford."

Immediately, she felt the breath leave her.

"In… England?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. I thought you were… What happened to… Wow. Oxford. In…"

"England," he reiterated, watching her carefully, his hands clenched into fists in his lap.

"That's… far away, you'll be…" she trailed off, trying to calculate the time in her head even though she wasn't sure what time it _was_ there.

"8 hours."

"Huh?"

"8 hours. Ahead." He glanced at the alarm clock on Natalie's bedside table, which read 1:19 PM. "It's 9 there."

"I thought you… What made you pick Oxford?" she asked, wringing her fingers now, avoiding his eyes by looking back at the clock. "I thought you wanted to go to a university here, just… away. Not… _England_ away."

Lucifer exhaled, long and low.

" _Here_ away isn't enough anymore. I want to get away from them, Nat. I don't want to be in their reach anymore."

His family. He wanted to get away from his family. While she could understand that, she still had trouble processing that after spending most of her life by his side, she would be alone. She had been okay with him being a few hours away, resigned herself to facetiming instead of face to face interactions and weekend visits, but this…

She was unprepared for this.

"When do you leave?"

"Next month."

"When?" she pressed. He hesitated, and she asked again.

"The 14th." Natalie swore she felt the ground give beneath her.

 _Three weeks._ She had _three weeks_ left with him. She felt the telltale burn of tears behind her eyes, but held them off.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she finally asked, her head swimming.

"I was trying to figure out how."

"Were you ever going to?" she accused, her voice breaking. "If how you've been acting is anything to go by, you've known you were leaving for months! And now you're - _now_ you're telling me we have less than a month left?"

He flinched, lowering his eyes. Natalie pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and spun out of the room.

The door slammed behind her.

"Call me when you land," she said, looking up at him for what would be the last time in who knew how long. "I don't care what time it is, alright? Call me so I know you're safe."

His lips twitched as he consented, trying to memorize the lines of her face.

She would be the only thing he missed about this godforsaken town. Hell, he missed her already and he hadn't even left yet.

After a lot of discussion and tears since she had found out, they had agreed to stop dating, at least while he was overseas. Both of them had felt that the timezone difference and the conflicting schedules would put an unnecessary strain on their relationship, so for the time being, they were only friends.

Natalie had assured him that when he came back for breaks though, the "no kissing" ban was to be lifted as she stroked his cheek absently back in her room, a teasing grin on her face that he just had to break the aforementioned ban for in order to wipe it off.

"You're bad at this," she had whispered against his lips.

"You're kissing me back," he pointed out, rolling them over on her bed until he was above her. She had smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him back down.

"We both are," she amended, and he hummed in approval before silencing her.

"I'll call you," he promised, snapping out of the memory as she waited for an answer.

"You better," she said, with playfully threatening undertones and a finger in his face. Then all her teasing faded, and she wrapped her arms around his waist. She hugged him as tight as she could and buried her face in his chest, a muffled "I'll miss you so much," just barely reaching his ears through the airport chatter.

He didn't return the sentiment, but his lips touched the top of her head in reply. Natalie felt tears she promised she wouldn't cry spring to her eyes, and she tightened her arms around him.

"You're not supposed to kiss me," she accused teasingly. He laughed quietly against her hair.

"Sue me."

"Gosh, I better do that soon. I won't be able to anymore once you're a lawyer, Mr. Fancy Pants. You'd crush me in court."

His lips twitched again, "You're damn right."

She laughed and pulled back from him.

"You're such a jerk."

Before he could reply, there was an announcement for his flight boarding. Natalie clutched him tighter, before letting him go and stepping back.

"Have fun in England. Take lots of pictures because I want to see everything. I'm going to live vicariously through you."

"You got it, kid." She smiled at the nickname, before stepping aside to let him say bye to his family. The handshake with his father was stiff and he hardly made eye contact with Michael. Gabriel nodded to him, wishing him well. His sisters were more receptive to him, even Zad telling him she would miss him while Cham cried.

He said goodbye to Alex, who was standing off to the side, who clasped the young man in a tight hug. He had been more of a father to Lucifer than his own father had ever been.

When the second announcement for his flight was made, Lucifer nodded at his family, told Alex goodbye, and when he passed Natalie again, he squeezed her arm and leaned over to kiss her temple.

"I know, I'm bad at this," he said, with his own smile teasing his lips this time, and then he was gone.

Natalie pushed back the tears again. There would be no more crying. Everything would work out just fine.

It was April of her senior year, and Natalie couldn't recall a time when she'd ever been more excited. Her senior prom was coming up, and while she had originally not planned on going since she'd been to two already and Lucifer was overseas, a conversation about a month or two after classes had started had changed her mind.

" _I feel bad that I'm going to miss your senior year,_ " he'd admitted one night, during one of their rare skype calls during odd hours of the day when they'd both managed to find some free time. " _I won't be able to make your graduation… that's during finals week. But if I can find the time, I'll come back and take you to prom."_

Three months ago, when tickets had gone on sale, and she messaged him immediately. A few days later, he'd told her to go ahead and get them. It was the first message she'd received from him in a week, and she'd immediately spent the $70 for two tickets to that year's prom.

She wasn't too disheartened about how little they'd been talking lately, she knew he must be busy, what with his finals approaching soon. She imagined Oxford was more trying than some of the universities he'd been considering there.

She had already bought her dress (it was red, which she knew was his favorite color to see her in) and heels higher than two inches (which she practiced walking in them every night) and looked up hairstyles and makeup tutorials (which she attempted on weekends with results of variously hilarious degrees). He hadn't come home for winter break, so this would be the first time she'd seen him since he'd left in July.

She knew it was silly, since he'd seen her with bedhead and morning breath and when she was sick and snotty, but she wanted to look good for him.

And, she was admittedly a little excited about breaking the 'no kissing' ban. She'd even made sure to get lip _stain_ instead of lip _stick_ , so it wouldn't smear all over his face when she did.

Giddy with excitement at the thought of him coming home, finally, just to take her to prom, Natalie's mood was high and nothing could knock the smile from her face in the coming weeks.

Not even the short message she got during lunch exactly a week before prom, the first time she had seen his name light up her screen in almost two weeks:

[ _Sorry, exam Friday, can't make it._ ]

She bit back the urge to roll her eyes at his teasing, and quickly typed back a reply.

 **[Haha, ok dude. Seriously, when does your flight land?]**

As an afterthought, she sent another message about how excited she was for him to see her dress, a smile stretching wide across her lips.

She went several minutes without a reply, so she turned back to talk to her friends and finish her lunch. When her phone finally buzzed again, she picked it up quickly, eager to read his newest message.

[ _I am serious. I can't make it. Sorry, kid, have fun._ ]

She read it three times. Then again. Then once, twice, three more times, the words running around in her head over and over but not making any sense.

He couldn't make it? He wasn't coming?

The conversation around her faded to a dull ringing in her ears. Her vision blurred with tears as she read it again and again and again. _Sorry, kid, have fun_ _._

Only when she heard her name break through the ringing did she finally tear her eyes from her phone, looking up at her friends.

"You alright, Natalie?"

With a mountain of effort, Natalie painted a smile that looked nearly effortless on her face.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, what were we talking about?" _Sorry, kid, have fun_.

In the next week, Natalie thought about giving her dress to someone who needed it, about giving her tickets to someone who hadn't had the money to purchase theirs.

Instead, she held on to the hope that he was just playing a cruel joke. What if she gave her dress and tickets away and he showed up on her doorstep, with flowers and that teasing smirk she missed so much?

But he never showed up. Her dress hung on the back of her door and her heels sat outside her closet as she curled up on the living room couch to watch a movie she couldn't focus on.

 _Sorry, kid, have fun._

" _I know it'll kill me when it's over. I don't wanna think about it, I want you to love me now_."

—John Legend, "Love Me Now"


	2. Chapter 1

" _And I've been travelling through the dirt and the grime, from the past to the future, through the space and the time."_

—Grateful Dead, "Any Road"

 _6 Years Later, March_

"The day is almost over, _yaa shabab_ , but it's not done yet. Get your asses in gear and get that last beam up and you all can go home."

There was a collective groan from the men stationed in a staggered circle, ready to depart for the day, and Lucifer glanced over his shoulder at the setting sun, still scorching its path across the sand with no absence of spite about its descent beneath the horizon. He turned to follow his co-workers further into the site to finish the day's job and lifted the rim of his hard hat to wipe the sweat and dirt from his brow.

He didn't get very far before the construction manager called out " _saghir_!", the nickname Lucifer had acquired during his first month in Cairo since he was the youngest on the site, even though he would be turning 25 soon.

Khalid waved him over and Lucifer obliged, but slowed when an unfamiliar man in a suit walked up to stand beside him. Khalid waved more vigorously, and when he reached them, he clapped an arm around Lucifer's shoulders and turned him to meet the other.

"This is Mr. Adair," he introduced, in English now. "He is head of company in New York."

"The very same company funding this project you're working on, actually," Adair said, lifting his chin in the direction of the structure that was currently all metal beams. Lucifer didn't follow his gaze, knowing full well what it looked like — he'd been working on it for the better part of a year, had even offered architectural tips in its early stages that had helped them get it off the ground faster.

Adair finally cracked a smile at the younger man's unphased expression, not at all put off by how thoroughly unimpressed Lucifer was with him.

"Walk with me, Lucifer — can I call you Lucifer?" Lucifer's eyes pointedly dropped to the cross that glinted from a thin chain between the open buttons of his shirt, then back up to meet his.

"If you're comfortable with that," he said dryly, and the business man's smile widened in amusement as they moved further away from the bustle of men trying to finish out the day, Khalid trailing to the other side and slightly behind.

"I hear you've been around," Adair started pleasantly, walking slowly. "Came here from Greece? Athens, if I remember correctly?"

Lucifer only nodded, wary about the direction of the conversation.

"And before then?"

"Rome."

"Don't hold out on me now." Lucifer grimaced.

"Berlin. Paris. Barcelona."

"Fascinating. How long have you been traveling?"

"Nearly 7 years." It took him a moment, to count. He'd never considered how long he'd been gone before, never counted the years as they went. It was a bit of a shock to him to say it outloud in those terms.

"If you don't mind my asking, Lucifer, what brought you over here?"

Flashes of his family's faces played through his mind, and his fists clenched. A flash of red and there was an ache he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a long time.

"University. Oxford," he finally answered.

"Oxford is very prestigious. And yet you're not there anymore?" Lucifer's knuckles whitened indignantly.

"Is this going somewhere?" he asked through gritted teeth. "I didn't know you'd come all the way here from New York just to grill a carpenter on one of your projects."

"Ah. I apologize, I see you're not one for small talk. That's the thing, though. You're not just a carpenter. Khalid tells me you were the one who proposed the new design for the braces, back in February last year," Adair started, slowing to a stop. "Saved me a lot of money, you know."

There was a pause while Lucifer waited, expecting more. When he looked up, Adair was staring at him.

"It got me to thinking… You see, I run my business from New York City. I have some of the greatest architectural minds on hand, and they didn't think of _that_ ," he gestured in the vague direction of the structure behind them, "in all the time they'd spent designing it."

Lucifer was unable to help the incredulous arch of his brow and scoffed, "You needed an entire team to design this tragedy?"

Khalid finally jumped into the conversation, trying to amend, "Well, it's not terri—"

Adair held up a hand to stop him, a look of intrigue passing over his features, "'Tragedy', you say?"

Lucifer raised his shoulders, passively making making his stance on the building clear. He could feel his manager's hard glare on him.

Adair's hand moved to his chin, a watch that probably cost more than everything Lucifer owned glinting in the light of the setting sun on his wrist, and asked, as if to humor an audience, "What makes it so, do you think?"

Khalid's expression darkened as he glared at his carpenter, as if to say, "If you dare step out of line…"

Lucifer met his eyes, in a moment of joust, until he panned his patronizing gaze to Adair.

He leaned back, the tools hanging at his belt shifting, gestured to the brilliant sun behind him, and coolly inquired, "It was pretty hot today, no?"

The CEO's head tilted, unsure of the relationship this had with the conversation.

Lucifer continued, "And I'm assuming the sorry sacks that'll be working in this building won't want to be that toasty."

Adair spoke up here, a bit of the pride of being accomplished and revered sneaking into his voice, "All the buildings I've overseen have been nothing if not boasted for their comfort. We'll have the building air conditioned, of course."

He looked to Khalid, sharing his pride with the supervisor.

Feigning to be impressed, Lucifer's eyebrows rose on his forehead. He said, dryly, "Wow. Air conditioning—"

Khalid cleared his throat, to which the youth laughed at, without humor. Adair questioned, indignant, "You're surely not suggesting zero air conditioning?"

Lucifer turned his eyes to him, glinting almost golden in the fading light, a stern look on his face.

"The sun sets in the west and you have us building that wreck — yes, a wreck," he clarified pointedly in response to Khalid's sharp look, "facing the same direction. It's going to be hot as hell when it's finished."

As realization dawned on Adair, Lucifer continued, "Your first mistake, a ridiculous one at that, is that your building is facing the wrong way," here, the corners of his lips twitched up in a subtle, smug smirk, "I wonder how much it'll cost this building to run the air conditioning full blast all day?"

His face going a little red in embarrassment, the CEO turned on Khalid, a tempered frustration in his voice as he asked, "Why was no one informed of this? It's too late to make any changes now."

Not one to leave his foreman helpless at his doing — this man had after all given him this job and trusted all his advice — Lucifer interjected, "We advised your architects, but you guys never listen to us 'blue collars', do you? Even the change for the braces almost fell on deaf ears."

There was a beat of silence, a tension so thick it was almost suffocating settling around them.

Lucifer was unable to hide his surprise as Adair smiled and began to laugh, "Okay Khalid, you were right. I admit it! There's something in this boy."

Unamused by the turn of events and being called a "boy," Lucifer scowled, looking between his boss and _his_ boss. Khalid finally allowed his tense shoulders to relax, and cracked a smile of his own, slapping a hand across Lucifer's shoulder.

"I told you! All experience, this one. And books." Lucifer shrugged his hand off, his eyes narrowing.

"What are you talking about?"

"Books?" Adair asked, that curious tone coming back to his voice, and Khalid's grin showed teeth.

"Yes, yes, _kathir_ \- many. Always on his breaks he is reading, architecture books."

"I'm still _here_ ," the youngest party said through gritted teeth, hating when people spoke over him or pretended he wasn't there. Khalid raised his palms to him in surrender, laughing, " _Asif, asif_ ," while Adair inclined his head.

"Yes, of course," he said, his smile still playing on his lips, and Lucifer wondered if it ever truly left. "I don't mean to be rude, I apologize. Truthfully, I did come here to look at the progress of the building, which I know now is going to cost me a terrible penny." His smile turned a bit rueful here. "But, I would be lying if I said I hadn't come to see you, too."

Lucifer gave him a bland look, and Khalid thumped his back again, switching back to Arabic to mutter under his breath about ungrateful kids. Lucifer's lips twitched again, and he struggled to remain stoic while he waited for Adair to continue.

"After I got word of the change for the braces, I called Khalid to thank him for the idea. He told me that he wished he could take credit for it, but it was really a new carpenter who had given it. And that new carpenter, I'm sure you could guess, was—"

"Me," Lucifer finished, glancing over at Khalid, who was grinning ear to ear watching him.

"Yes. You. He told me he saw potential in you. I've worked with Khalid for a long time now, I trust his judgment. I told him to keep me updated, and here we are."

"I'm still not sure I understand — what _exactly_ do you want with me?"

"I'd like to offer you an internship."

"A — what?"

"Well, technically it would be an 'apprenticeship', but the gist is the same. You're very gifted, and I'd like for you to come work with my team."

"Don't you need a degree for that? I'm not going back to school. It wasn't my thing." Adair smiled again, and Lucifer wondered if he should start keeping count of how many times he did that as Khalid snickered behind him.

"Degrees would make things easier, I suppose. But no. There are a few states where you can acquire your architecture license without it, given that you have proper work experience and can pass the exam yourself. New York is one of them. I'm willing to give you the 'experience' part, if it's something you're interested in."

Lucifer just stared at him, unable to believe what he was saying.

"Are you serious?"

"Completely." When Lucifer didn't respond right away, he added, "It will be paid, of course. Livable wages, full time. This internship will be your job, the first step to your career, if you so desire."

There was another long pause as Lucifer tried to process the implications of what an internship in New York entailed.

"I can give you a company stipend to get your living arrangements in order and - forgive me if I'm wrong, something appropriate to wear into the office? Until you start getting paid."

It was an amazing deal. It was something he'd never even allowed himself to dream of, but now that it was real, tangible, and within his reach…

He was crazy to not have said yes yet. There was nothing about the offer he didn't like. The one thing holding him back was the fact that he would, in fact, be returning to the US.

He hadn't been in the states since he'd left. He had never thought far enough ahead to wonder if he would return one day, to all he'd left behind. Granted, New York was far from the Golden State he'd grown up in.

"You don't have to give me an answer right now. I'll be in town until Friday, and then I'll return to New York." He fished in his suit pocket for a moment, before procuring a business card and extending it to Lucifer. "Contact me before then and if you decide you want to do it, we can arrange for you to come back with me—"

"No," Lucifer said, cutting him off before he had the chance to finish. Adair's brows rose in genuine surprise.

"No?"

"I mean, no, I don't need to think about it."

He'd spent years travelling. He'd seen more than he could've ever hoped, learned more than he wagered he would have if he'd stayed in Oxford. And architecture had interested him for the better part of 6 years, soon after he'd stumbled across his first construction site looking for work in Barcelona. He couldn't imagine a bad side to this deal.

An opportunity like the one presented to him would have been stupid to pass up. He met Adair's eyes, his expression shadowed by the disappearing light of the sun, but the determination set in his eyes clear.

"I want to go." A slow smile found its way back onto Adair's face, and he stuck his hand out.

"It sounds like we have a deal. We'll get you ready to travel to New York and once there, we can get your contract all set up."

Lucifer clasped his hand, Khalid's joyful whoop behind them threatening to break the stoic set of his jaw.

It wouldn't hurt to smile a little, he supposed.


	3. Chapter 2

" _I've gotta learn how to love without you. I've gotta carry my cross without you. Stuck in the middle and I'm just about to figure this out without you."_

— Avicii, "Without You"

 _May_

Natalie set her bags down just inside the door with a huff and beamed at her friends. She raised a hand to tuck the hair that had come out of her loose bun behind her ear and looked around.

It was almost exactly as she remembered it, neat if small, but the lack of space was to be expected from a studio owned by a pair of graduate students. Natalie didn't mind the lack of elbow room, though, the place was cozy and she always enjoyed her stays there during the holidays she opted out of going home for but didn't want to spend alone.

She loved it here, considered this place to be her home away from home away from home, since it was only a few hours away from her university where she lived in an apartment near campus. Coming all the way out here had originally been a point of tension between her and her dad — he didn't want her going so far away from home and he dreaded the idea that she'd be across the country all alone.

Kristi had been her selling point. They had been friends since elementary school, but their freshman year of high school her parents had gotten divorced and she'd made the move to New York with her mom. His reluctance to let her go had eased up considerably when she'd made the case that she wouldn't be all on her own, she already knew someone who could show her around and help her get settled.

It was through Kristi that she'd met Laila, and now she considered the two her best friends. Kristi could be a little much sometimes, but she loved them and they always had a good time when she stayed with them.

"I see you haven't done much since I was last here," she teased, before her eyes caught on a pair of jeans thrown carelessly over the dresser. "Except for the new denim art. Nice touch."

Kristi snatched the jeans and threw them onto the floor to begin a pile of dirty laundry, and Natalie laughed as she moved to shut the door.

"Not much to do when you have no space to do it," Laila tossed over her shoulder as she moved to the kitchen, which was little more than a refrigerator, stove, a microwave shoved haphazardly into the alcove above it, and a sink.

"I keep telling you, I could hook you up with some really great hanging gardens-" Natalie began, to which both her friends let out long suffering groans.

"I'll pass on waking up in the middle of the night to find you making out with some leaves, thanks." Natalie took the comment in stride, however, and gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

"Please. Everyone knows you don't make out with plants." She paused, and Laila and Kristi both turned their eyes on her expectantly. "You sing to them."

Both groaned again, and a dirty sock came soaring at Natalie from Kristi's end. She ducked out of the way just in time.

"That's even worse!"

"If you sing you're _out_ , McAllister, I mean it!"

"That's cold," Natalie said, giggling so hard she had trouble finding her breath, and soon Kristi and Laila were joining her, try as they might to keep from doing so — her laugh had always been infectious.

"I missed you guys," she gasped when she had finally calmed down a bit and wiped a tear from beneath her eyes. Kristi rolled her eyes at that.

"You were here not even two months ago."

Natalie shrugged, and grabbed her bags, dragging them over to the dresser against the far wall, adjacent to the bunks they had.

"You know which one's are yours," Kristi said, skirting around her.

"Bottom two, as always," Natalie affirmed. "You guys don't have to clear these out for me. I'm never here for long, I'm fine just living out of my bags."

"You're practically here every other month, just shut up and accept them. It's not like we need them."

"Besides, it's not like you'll be doing much 'living' here anyways, between your fancy internship and your job," Laila said, a smirk tugging at the edge of her dark lips. Rolling her eyes playfully at Laila's good-natured quip, Natalie glanced up from her bags, setting a hand on her hip.

"It's not 'fancy'." Kristi scoffed and Laila's brow arched elegantly.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Because I looked it up." Natalie blanched a little at that. "And lo and behold, a summer botany internship in the Bronx? At the New York Botanical Gardens, where only 30 students are accepted? No, that doesn't sound too fancy at all."

Natalie blushed, and Laila and Kristi shared a look, Kristi snickering behind her hand.

"Maybe it's a little fancy," she confessed, and Laila laughed.

"Why didn't you _tell us_? That's great, McAllister, really. You should be proud."

"I am! I mean, I know. I just didn't want to come off as braggy."

"There's a difference between proud and braggy." Laila paused, then shot a look at Kristi over her shoulder. "Maybe you can teach Lange."

"Hey!"

"She always has been more braggy," Natalie teased.

"I'm still waiting on all the elementary school stories."

"No way!"

"She wouldn't dare. I've got dirt on her, too. Though in her case, some of those are literal. She always has been a tree hugger," Kristi mocked, and Natalie stuck her tongue out at her.

"Plants are cool."

"Yeah, okay."

"You're so rude," Natalie said through a grin, and Kristi pointed a warning finger at her.

"Watch it, you're in _my_ house."

Laila rolled her eyes, "Enough of this."

Natalie held her hands up in surrender, backing off.

"Fine, but she started it."

"Oh, yeah, it's always _my_ fault."

"I'm kicking you both out if you keep it up," Laila threatened.

"We're not!" both protested at the same time. Natalie promptly changed the subject, dropping her hands to her stomach.

"Gosh, I'm starving. You got any food around here?"

"No, but I was thinking pizza."

"Pizza sounds _great._ "

Laila ordered and the three settled on the couch to catch up as they waited. Natalie folded her legs beneath her as she listened to Kristi recap a story from work a few weeks ago and Laila recalled a surly barista who smelled too strongly of smoke who'd been serving her for the better part of a month.

"He's just always so rude but it's kind of cute, in a way," she said with a shrug. "He's like a kitten whose tail you yanked."

"Is there a cute way to be rude?" Kristi said skeptically, sharing a look with Natalie.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't expect you to know," Laila replied casually, picking at a loose thread on the pillow in her lap. Kristi gasped in feigned offense, and grabbed the pillow closest to her, throwing it at her head.

Natalie smiled at the back at forth, and thought about how lucky she was. She was working on her master's degree at a university she'd never considered she could end up going to, she had an amazing internship lined up, and she had the best friends a girl could ask for.

She was excited about what the future would bring. She didn't know how things could get any better than they were right then.

There was a knock at the door and Natalie rolled her eyes good-naturedly when the two were too distracted by their bickering to notice it. She stood up and grabbed her wallet, pulling out enough bills for the pizza and the tip as she made her way to the door.

She opened it wide and gave him the money, telling him to keep the change and smiling when she wished him a good day before he had the chance to say it first. She carried the box back to the table in front of the couch, and plopped them down.

"If you two are done being children, your dinner has arrived. Bon appetit," she said, raising the lid of the box as if she were lifting the dome from a silver platter.

"You're such a dork, McAllister."

Natalie giggled, falling back onto the couch beside them and nudging Laila's shoulder with a, "like you aren't."

They all reached forward and took a slice, and Kristi pulled her legs beneath her, leaning against the arm of the couch.

"Do you have to work tomorrow?" she asked, and Natalie looked over at her as she struggled with the stringiness of the cheese. Kristi and Laila both snickered, and Nat kicked out at them.

"Don't laugh at me!" she said around a mouthful of pizza, though she was laughing again, too. She covered her mouth with her hand while she chewed and swallowed, shaking her head as a nonverbal response to Kristi's question until she could speak again.

"Nah, Elodie said I could have the weekend to settle in. I don't start until Monday."

"Elodie's too sweet on you," Kristi rolled her eyes.

"It's not like you need the time to 'settle in' when you do this every few months," Laila agreed, sounding amused. Natalie shrugged.

"She insisted."

If she was being honest, though, Elodie was pretty sweet on her. She'd met her during her first visit to Manhattan, a little flower shop tucked into a corner that Natalie had found as a welcome relief from the stink and the unending stretch of concrete and metal. The woman was nearly two decades Natalie's senior yet she only looked a handful of years older, and she made a habit of tucking flowers she didn't end up using in arrangements into the rubber band that held her braids back and then forgetting about them until she had tiny bouquets decorating her dark hair.

She'd offered her a job after talking to Natalie for just an hour, and Natalie had nearly leapt at the chance, but she'd been hesitant. She had had to turn down the offer, reluctantly, on the grounds that she'd only be in town for a few weeks.

Elodie had refused to take no for an answer, though. Natalie remembered the little smile that said "I know something you don't know" and how the woman had carefully picked pieces from what Natalie had told her in the hour they had spoken.

"You said you'd be staying with your friends here when you couldn't afford to go back home, yeah?"

Natalie, confused as to the direction the conversation was headed, answered with an uncertain confirmation.

"When you come back, you can work for me," Elodie had said, beating the counter once affirmatively, and it had taken Natalie a moment to understand what she meant.

She had been working for the small shop ever since, during every break and return to Kristi and Laila's apartment. It worked out wonderfully, since during some of the longer breaks she stayed she wouldn't have to go hunting for a new job each time.

There was a comfort she found in the little flower shop that had a constant, steady stream of customers despite its placement. It wasn't her dream job, but it was close enough to the source of it that Natalie found she genuinely enjoyed it, and Elodie didn't tease her too much about her studious examination of some of the rarer flowers the shop had in stock.

"—tomorrow?"

Natalie blinked, looking over at Laila.

"What?"

"Wake up, Nat," Kristi teased, and Natalie leaned forward around Laila to stick her tongue out at her.

"I _said_ ," Laila stressed before the two could begin bickering, "did you want to go out tomorrow? Kristi and I found this place a few weeks ago and you'd love it."

"That sounds great," Natalie said, and she grinned between the two of them. Her cheeks hurt from smiling and laughing so much, but she couldn't stop. She had every reason to.


	4. Chapter 3

" _Darling, so it goes. Some things were meant to be."_

—Elvis Presley, "Can't Help Falling in Love"

 _June_

The city stank of garbage, hot asphalt, and a strange combination of body odor and an overabundance of fragrance spray. But tucked into her little corner of the world, it smelled of fresh cut gardenias, daisies, roses, lilies, and so many more.

Natalie let out a breath she hadn't known she had been holding, her nose smoothing out from the distasteful scrunch she was almost certain she'd unconsciously walked through the entire city with.

As often as she was here, she never grew used to the stench of Manhattan. It smelled awful to her sensitive nose and her only reprieve was her small flower shop.

Elodie clucked her tongue at her as she emerged from the back.

"Your face is too pretty to get stuck in an expression like that, child," she teased, tucking a flower behind Natalie's ear. "You would think it wouldn't bother you so much by now."

"You would think," Natalie agreed, with a little laugh and a smile. "But you'd also think that I wouldn't still get sunburned with as much time I spend outside." She held her arm out to emphasize her point, where the usually pale skin had been pinkened in the heat.

"Forgot sunscreen?" Elodie asked with an arch of her brow, one that never failed to impress Natalie and make her a little jealous that she couldn't do it herself.

"Forgot sunscreen." Natalie was sheepish. "I stopped to look at some hollyhocks and I… lost track of time."

Elodie glanced at the clock overhead.

"You still got here on time."

"Ok, so I might have left early to stop and take a look at the garden." The garden referred to the Conservatory in Central Park, where Natalie had all but memorized the bloom patterns. Hollyhocks were just coming into season, and she'd stopped today because she had noticed several of them had opened up beautifully.

The older woman laughed and reached back to pull her dark braids into a low ponytail.

"There are plenty more here to look at today — we have a wedding."

"A whole one?" Natalie gasped, her face lighting up at the pleasant surprise, and the light in her mentor's eyes was all the confirmation she needed. The small, hidden shop frequently saw arrangements for birthdays and holidays and get-well-soon's, but it was rare they were ever asked to make the entire floral displays for weddings.

Weddings were an involved process, especially for only two people — bouquets for the bride and bridal party, table arrangements, archways, really, Natalie could go on and on — but they were both excited to tackle it.

"How much time do we have?"

"2 weeks.

"Oh. That's…"

"It's not a lot of time, I know. But it was an opportunity I couldn't pass up."

"I would have been miffed at you if you had," Natalie said, a determined set to her brow. She was never one to pass up a challenge. "We'll get it done. And they'll be the best gosh darn flowers anyone has ever seen."

"That's my girl."

When Lucifer had been offered the internship, he'd known it would probably be a lot of work. What he hadn't counted on was how exhausting it would be.

He'd worked countless hours in the blistering sun, in below freezing conditions, in rain that pounded more painfully against his back than the heat. He'd spent days doing heavy lifting, working with his hands and pushing his body to its limits on construction sites. And he woke up every morning at 5 to do it all again.

He had thought that, comparably, this would be a piece of cake.

He had been so, so wrong.

Working with his hands had been easy. Mindless. For the most part, he'd been able to teach himself the ins and outs of carpentry. Everything fit a certain way, everything had a place, every tool had a specific use.

Here it was different. Here he was expected to shadow, to watch, to replicate, to create, to redo, to redo again, and again and again and againagainagain.

It was more mentally taxing than anything. He got frustrated a lot, because he knew how structures worked, hell, he'd built a lot of them himself. How were these office lurkers supposed to understand how buildings went together if they weren't out there themselves?

He ripped the pencil from behind his ear with a sigh. He knew he wasn't being fair — many of them were out there, inspecting the progress themselves if they could afford to get away. It was busy work here, and even all the books he'd read on the topic hadn't been able to fully prepare him for what this internship would actually be like.

Putting together the structures was one thing; designing them inside and out was something else entirely. It required more concentration, more attention to the little details. Out there, it was the simple matter of putting things together. Of course you had to make sure you were doing it correctly, or else it wouldn't be safe or the infrastructure could fail a lot sooner than it was supposed to, but it was the job of the architect to make sure these things were safe to be built in the first place and that the infrastructure, if put together correctly, _would_ hold for a long time.

He ran his hands through his hair, the blueprint in front of him entirely unappealing at the moment. His phone rang, and he hesitated looking at the caller ID, because the caller could only be a pleasant distraction or an infuriating reminder of what he was supposed to be doing.

He finally flipped it over and his shoulders slumped in relief at the loopy foreign letters that told him it wasn't Adair. He was grateful to the man for giving him the opportunity, no doubt, but he was the last person Lucifer wanted to talk to.

"Shouldn't you be in bed, old man?" Lucifer asked into the phone as a greeting, glancing at the clock.

Khalid laughed.

It was 2:38 in the morning exactly one week from the wedding and Natalie, though not usually a coffee-drinker, was in desperate need of caffeine.

Her and Elodie had been working tirelessly to fill the wedding order, on top of their other day-to-day business. The small shop was crowded with an overabundance of flowers, making it hard to see and harder to maneuver. Elodie had had to borrow an extra fridge from another nearby florist in order to keep the flowers fresh and lively.

It was absolute chaos in every way, but Natalie was enjoying every moment of it. The bride had stopped in earlier that day to see the arrangements so far and she'd been thrilled. Understandably, she had been worried if it would all get done in time, but they had assured her it would be, even if they had to stay up all night to do it.

Which was exactly what they were doing.

Elodie's order was black with a double shot of espresso and just the scent of it made Natalie cringe. She didn't understand how anyone could down that without gagging.

Her own order was a caramel iced coffee with milk and extra caramel. She needed the sweetness in order to counteract the bitter aftertaste coffee always left her with.

She left the barista with her name after paying and then went to sit down, the weight of the time and the knowledge of the night that laid ahead of her pulling her down into the closest chair. She slumped in it, and raised her phone to bleary eyes to see an hour old text from Laila in their and Kristi's group chat.

 _Don't work too hard. Left the door unlocked for u._

Natalie smiled at the consideration and almost typed a reply back, but decided against it when she caught sight of the time again. If Laila was asleep by now, she didn't want to chance waking her up with a text.

The small coffee shop was a block away from Elodie's, where they had been shacked up all night. For the past three nights they'd been up, taking care with the table arrangements and the arches. They were saving the bouquet for last, so the bride could be with them the day before to give her opinion on it.

At the rate they were going, they would just barely finish on time, but between normal orders and Natalie's upcoming internship, they were doing all that they could.

And they were doing fantastic, if Natalie did say so herself. The arrangements were some of their best work and she was so excited to see the bride's face when she first saw her venue all done up in their creations.

It was this thought that gave her the drive to stay up until ungodly hours in the night. Weddings were a big day for people, and Natalie wanted to ensure that everything that could be done on their part to make it the best day of the bride's life, would be.

The bell on the door chimed, but Natalie didn't have the energy to look up. Instead, she pressed her forehead to her folded arms and willed her order to be done faster. She heard whoever had come in place their order, a low, tired voice that struck a chord in her but one she couldn't place.

"Natalie," the barista called, and with no small amount of relief she raised her head to see her two coffees being placed on the end of the counter. She stood to retrieve them, but she was stopped midstep by an incredulous whisper.

"For fucks' sake."

Hands outstretched to take her drinks and go, Natalie turned her head to see what had taken the stranger by surprise. She met his eyes, and immediately understood, her own widening.

For an incomprehensible amount of time that very well could've been only a few seconds but felt like an eternity, they just stared. Finally, Natalie broke the silence with a breathless whisper of her own.

"Lucifer."


	5. Chapter 4

" _Tell me, did you fall from a shooting star, one without a permanent scar? And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?_ "

—Train, "Drops of Jupiter"

"Lucifer," Natalie breathed. She could hardly believe he was here, standing across from her in this tiny hole-in-the-wall coffee shop in Manhattan. She hadn't seen or heard from him in years and suddenly he was right in front of her.

He was only a few feet from her but the distance between them stretched far and wide, making her head spin.

"Natalie… I…" He fumbled, feelings long buried rising with a vengeance, a thousand words rushing up his throat — explanations, apologies, stories, words he'd wanted to tell her _before_ but never could — but his tongue felt heavy and instead he finally settled lamely on, "How are you?"

"I'm — I'm good. How are you?"

"Alright," he said, quickly brushing over her question in favor of another, which came out a little harsher than he intended in his shock. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I…" She glanced down at the coffee in her hands, a crease in her brow, because it was rather obvious. What else would she be doing in a coffee shop at an ungodly time in the middle of the night? She lifted the two cups to show him, "Getting coffee?"

Lucifer tilted his head at her and Natalie felt a little self conscious under his scrutiny, the intensity of his eyes.

"No, I mean, _here_." He gestured widely. "Manhattan."

"Oh," she flushed lightly. Duh. "I, um. I go to school a few hours away. I come here during the summer and stuff. When I don't want to like, book a ticket home or… something."

She fingered the edge of the lid of one of the drinks she'd set back on the table. It was not lost on either of them that some six or seven odd years ago, she would have known what he meant. They had known each other like the back of their hands, and she'd been able to decipher his vague, short responses with little effort.

There was a beat, a silence that seemed longer than it was, before they both started talking at the same time.

"What are you studying—"

"So what are _you_ doing—"

They stopped. Natalie laughed, and it was a nervous sound. There was an ache in Lucifer's chest that he'd forgotten he could feel.

They had been best friends. They had been the most important people in each other's lives.

And he'd ruined it.

Typical.

Another awkward silence, then when it didn't look like he was going to talk, Natalie picked up. Her palms were slick and she tried to discreetly rub them against her jeans.

"Botany. I'm, uh, I'm studying botany." One of his eyebrows raised, surprised. Natalie herself was a little surprised when she realized she remembered what _this_ meant, and the smile that tugged at her lips was genuine. "I stuck with it. Some childhood dreams don't change."

"That's… wow."

"Is it really that hard to believe?"

"No, I… I knew you could."

Natalie's breath shook, and she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. The reminder of what they had once been left a chill in her bones that the warmth of Elodie's coffee couldn't cure.

It had been almost _seven years_. She had thought herself long over a teenage heartbreak, but the memory of the loss of her first love stung with his sudden reappearance.

"What about you? Why are you here?"

There was a subtle change in his expression, the crease between his brows smoothing out. She imagined he was feeling the same as she was, but then again, maybe not. He was the one who'd cut off contact between them.

"I got a job."

"At a firm?" she asked, remembering what he'd gone to school for. Briefly, she wondered if he'd ever come around to like law, but he answered her unspoken question himself.

"No." There was something about the way he said it, an uncomfortable hesitation that made her think he wanted to say more on the subject but didn't. "Architecture."

That wasn't what Natalie had expected.

"Really? How did that happen?"

Lucifer reached up, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It's, ah. A bit of a long story." Another hesitant smile from Natalie.

"Long story? You mean you've stopped summarizing things in only a handful of words?"

He smirked. It was drawn by the tired lines in his face, but the look was so familiar for a moment Natalie lost her breath. How could she remember something from so long ago in such perfect clarity?

"Maybe I'll tell you another time," he said slowly, the smirk sliding away. The statement was more of a question, and she felt his eyes on her, trying to gauge her reaction to the invitation.

"Yeah." The word was an exhale. "I have to — the coffee's getting cold, you know. But, uh. Here, um." She pulled herself together and walked back to the counter. She grabbed a napkin, then rummaged through her bag for a pen. When she found one she scribbled her number and folded it up.

She walked back to him and held it out for him. He took it, his fingers brushing hers, just to make sure she was real and not some exhaustion-induced hallucination. She pulled them back quickly, and went to retrieve her cups, trying to bat down the heat rising in her cheeks.

Taking her drinks, she started for the door. She turned when she reached it, finding his eyes still on her, watching. She smiled tiredly, pressing her back against it.

"Don't be a stranger," she said softly. "Have a good night."

And then she was gone, out the door and into the city.

It only occurred to Lucifer after he'd gotten his drink, the caffeine clearing a bit of the haze in his head, that he realized he should have offered to walk her home.

Natalie returned home sometime past 5 AM, when the sky was just starting to lighten. She slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind her to avoid waking her friends.

She was, admittedly, still reeling over her encounter with Lucifer. He had changed, they both had, but she could still see the boy she'd fallen in love with so many years ago in him and it had been a shock to her senses.

It had been a long time since she'd gotten over him and the way he'd left her behind. It had been a long time since she'd stopped crying into her pillow, wondering what she had done wrong, if he had found someone better.

But despite what people said, time didn't heal and seeing him had been a painful reminder.

She had forgiven him years ago. It wasn't in her to hold grudges, but it was hard to forget, even though she had tried.

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts she didn't notice Laila standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a mug in her hands.

"It's about time you got home," she said, jolting Natalie out of her whirlwind thoughts. "It's past your curfew."

Natalie laughed, tired and breathless.

"What are you doing up?"

"I couldn't sleep so here I am." Laila lifted her mug. "Sleeping potion."

"Sleeping potion? Haven't heard of that since undergrad."

"Ah, yes," Laila sighed, lamenting. "Undergrad. We thought we were such geniuses, as if everyone and their mother didn't already know nutmeg helped insomnia and tasted great in hot chocolate."

"Excuse _you,_ " Natalie said, feigning indignance. "We _were_ geniuses."

Laila scoffed and rose her mug to her lips.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, McAllister."

"It's gonna help me sleep great tonight, thank you very much," she replied, but there was a forced note to the words that she hoped Laila didn't pick up on. "I'm going to bed, goodnight."

Laila arched an eyebrow at her, but didn't press. Natalie turned to go slip into her pajamas and crash on the couch, but before she could get very far, she heard Laila behind her.

"Just let me know when you wanna tell me what's bothering you, Nat."

Natalie stopped, just for a moment.

"...Maybe in the morning," she said softly, then retreated into the bathroom.

Too much had happened and she was too tired, as much as she was bursting to tell someone. And telling her with Kristi would probably be better anyways.

Kristi had been there for the beginning of her and Lucifer's budding romance, and though she'd moved before it could officially begin and end as it had, Natalie had kept in contact. And after years of friendship with Laila as well, she knew the gist of what had happened.

When Natalie emerged, Laila was back in bed, her mug in the sink.

She grabbed her blanket off of the back of the couch and settled into the cushions.

Tomorrow, she'd tell them all about it. Maybe they could help her work through her twisting thoughts.

Lucifer sat at the desk in his apartment, his back to his work, distracted. He stared down at the small square, the familiar, messy handwriting staring right back.

It was true, time could change a lot. But it was funny how little could change, too, something as insignificant as handwriting that he would've recognized even if he hadn't seen the owner jot the 10 numbers down in front of him.

 _Natalie._

He almost hadn't believed it was her when he'd seen her. She was the same but _different._

She still had the same smile, the same sloppy bun, the same expressive eyes that showed him everything she felt upon seeing him again. She had the same unsteady laugh when she was uncomfortable and the same nervous tics.

But she wasn't the same baby faced girl who'd been his best friend almost from birth until his last year of high school. The years had been kind to her, and while she'd been pretty in high school, she was stunning now, even as tired as she was. There was a confidence to her now, one more refined and sure than the mask she used to put up for everyone except him.

In essence, she was still the same girl. But she was also a much different woman and there was a tightness in his chest when he thought of all the years that had passed without her.

Briefly, he wondered how much of the change had been brought on by him. Almost immediately he shut it down, not wanting to think about how much of a dick he had been to her, not wanting to consider how much he might have hurt her.

He'd tortured himself with those thoughts a long time ago.

He'd spent years trying to put her out of his mind, to move on from a relationship that had been doomed from the start anyways. She had always been too good for him.

Now that he'd seen her, though, he selfishly wanted to be a part of her life again. He wanted to know how she was doing. And maybe some deep, dark part of him wanted to know how he'd affected her.

Seeing her, he found he wanted to make up for almost seven years of radio silence.

And she had given him the means to do that, hadn't she?

He smoothed out the napkin, still staring at the 10 numbers he'd already memorized. _Don't be a stranger_ , she'd said.

Ironic, considering a stranger was all he _had_ been since he'd left. Jumping from city to city, country to country, starting over every time he'd started to feel a connection to someone or someplace. Khalid had been the first exception. His internship had been the second.

He exhaled, looking up from the napkin for the first time in what felt like hours. The sun was beginning to lighten his room through the slits in the blinds.

Maybe, just maybe, Natalie would be the third.


	6. Chapter 5

" _The things I've tried, the tears I've cried, I guess there's no doubt — you'll always be a fire I can't put out."_

—"A Fire I Can't Put Out", George Strait

Lucifer slammed his glass against the bar, and then dropped his head into his hands, running his fingers restlessly through his hair. The night before, he'd convinced himself to talk to her, to put her number in his phone and try to see if he could salvage anything that was left of them.

This morning when he woke up, all of that conviction had been gone, and he couldn't get it back. It frustrated him, how much of a fucking coward he was.

"If you break one of my glasses, you're buying me a whole new set," came a voice from above him. Without looking, Lucifer flicked his hand up to flip off the bartender, who only laughed goodnaturedly in return.

He'd met Ipos within his first week in Manhattan, seeking a reprieve from his new job, his new home, his new _life._ He'd been travelling for years, but being back in the States was… different, somehow.

But this bar had been his sanctuary of sorts, and he'd frequented it since.

"Are you gonna tell me what's on your mind or are you gonna sit there and sulk and get wasted at—" Ipos paused to look at the clock "—3 in the afternoon? C'mon, Lucifer. It's not even a prime drinking hour."

Well. A sanctuary for his body and mind maybe, but not for his privacy.

"I thought I came to a bar, not therapy."

"Ah, but you see, 'therapist' comes in the job description. You don't want to know how many sad sacks come in here to dump their problems on me."

Lucifer looked up, raising a brow at Ipos' easy smile.

"Don't let me be one of them, then."

"I find I like it, actually." Ipos took the glass from in front of Lucifer and refilled it, then slid it back towards him. "On the house, if you perk up long enough to tell me what's up. Otherwise, I'm charging you double."

Lucifer glared between Ipos and the shot, then downed it and set the glass back down roughly.

"Asshole," he muttered. Ipos only leaned against the counter in front of him.

"What's it gonna be?"

Lucifer was tempted to just slap down a bunch of bills and walk out, and he might have, if he'd carried cash on him. Having Ipos ring up his card and him have to wait to get it back and sign it wasn't as appealing of an exit, however, and not leaving a tip just wasn't satisfying enough.

Rubbing his temples to assuage the headache he felt coming on, he sighed.

"It's… There's…" Ipos hummed and Lucifer looked up again, eyes narrowing. "What?"

"It's a woman," Ipos said, and for a moment Lucifer looked surprised. Ipos tapped his temple. "I told you, a lot of people tell me their shit. I recognize the signs."

Lucifer grumbled, looking back down forlornly at his empty shot glass.

"You don't strike me as the type to get worked up over a girl. She must be somethin' special."

"Fuck off."

"I bet there's a history there."

"Fuck _off._ "

"There's definitely a history there."

"Okay, I'm outta here," Lucifer said, stepping down and turning on his heel. Behind him, Ipos laughed.

Lucifer stepped outside, the sun blinding compared to the dim light of the bar, and stuffed his hands into his pockets with a sigh. The thing was, Ipos wasn't wrong. In fact, he'd hit the nail on the head.

He didn't know what to do. As much as he wanted to be a part of her life again, he didn't deserve to be. After the stunt he'd pulled his first year away, he was surprised she didn't hate him. He had been an asshole, leaving her like that.

And now, acting like he could just jump right back in?

No, that was something even he couldn't do. He groaned, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.

There was no easy way to do this. The best thing to do would be to just leave her be.

But if he did that, didn't that mean he was no better than his 19-year-old self? The one who had decided the same thing, without talking to her first, selfishly and ignorantly believing that _he_ had known what was best for her?

The entire walk back to the office had him in a heated debate with himself. To leave her alone and be the same asshole he had been nearly 7 years ago, or to take the number she had given him of her own volition and try to rekindle some part of the flame they'd once had?

She wasn't a kid anymore — neither of them were. It wasn't fair of him to make decisions for the both of them, but that didn't make the idea of talking to her again, of eventually having to explain his actions and his silence, any less intimidating.

"Spill," Laila said from her spot perched on the counter the moment Natalie emerged from the bathroom.

"Yeah, Laila told me there was something up with you last night," Kristi chimed in, nursing her mug of coffee at the tiny table.

"Good morning to you, too," Natalie said, shuffling into the kitchen to grab a glass of orange juice.

"Good _afternoon_. It's almost 1." Natalie choked in disbelief, her head whipping around to look at the clock. "Not surprising considering what time you got home."

"It's so late!" she moaned. "Half the day is gone."

"You're _such_ a morning person," Laila complained, tossing a crumpled up paper towel at her. "Stop stalling and tell us what's wrong."

"There's nothing _wrong_ ," Natalie said, hesitantly. "I just… I ran into someone last night."

Both girls looked at her with similar expectant expressions.

"Who could you have possibly run into at 5 in the morning?"

"It was like 3," Natalie said indignantly.

"Since you're so reluctant to tell us, we should guess. Was it the boogieman? A killer clown?"

"Oh, oh! Was it your creepy boyfriend from undergrad? What was his name, Jericho?"

"I already said 'boogieman', Kristi," Laila admonished, and all three of them dissolved into giggles.

"No, no. It was… It was Lucifer." The admission was soft after they had quieted down, and Kristi gasped.

She had already moved out of California during their senior year when her and Lucifer's relationship had gone rocky and, ultimately, ended, but she had been there for the beginning of it and Natalie had kept in contact with her. She'd spent many a phone call crying, wondering what she'd done wrong, much to her chagrin now.

Laila hadn't known them for any of it, but after years of friendship and girls' nights and drunken games of truth or dare, she had come to know about him, as well.

" _Lucifer_?" Kristi asked incredulously, just to make sure she'd heard right. "As in, Abidan? As in, the asshole who broke your heart?"

"That's the one," Natalie said, laughing nervously.

"Son of a bitch," Laila muttered from her spot.

"What the hell is he doing _here_? He hasn't been heard from since… since…"

"Yeah. It's been… awhile."

"And suddenly he's _here_?"

"Are you sure it was him?"

"I'm positive. I talked to him. It looks like he's doing well."

Kristi scoffed, folding her arms, and Laila looked between the two of them.

"If you ask me he should be rotting in hell."

Natalie gave her a shaky smile, and said, "Come on now. He doesn't deserve that."

"Sure he does. If I could see him, I'd—"

"What happened?" Laila spoke up, interrupting Kristi's rage, wondering at the nervousness in Natalie's expression, in the way she fiddled with her fingers.

"Huh? Oh, n-nothing. I just — we just talked, a little. Like not even five minutes. I was getting coffee."

"And?" Laila prompted.

"And… And… I might have, maybe, possibly… givenhimmynumber."

"Natalie!" Kristi exclaimed, pushing her chair out to stand up.

"What!" Natalie took a step back, cradling her glass against her chest. "I thought it would be nice to catch up!"

"He broke your heart."

"That was _years_ ago. Isn't it… isn't it time to let bygones be bygones?"

If she was being honest, seeing him again had made her miss him, in a way. She hadn't thought about him in a long time, but having him stand 3 feet away from her made her realize she missed the memories of the two of them, she missed the friend he used to be.

It was weird, she knew. She was a little surprised at herself, too, because she could understand where Kristi was coming from.

But whether he'd hurt her or not, she wasn't one to hold grudges, and he was no exception. Maybe, one day, she could find out what had happened on his end that had caused him to just cut off all contact. The closure would be nice.

If not, though, she wouldn't hold that against him, either. As much as it had hurt her originally, maybe she didn't know him as well as she'd thought she had, and after so many years she couldn't claim that she knew him _at all_ anymore.

Who was she, to judge the circumstances of someone's life without knowing the full story? She hardly found it fair to push her own ignorant opinions into the picture.

She thought it might be good, for the both of them, to try and reconnect, though if he showed no signs of wanting to she wouldn't push him. A stranger, perhaps she would have, and for all that they knew about each other now he might as well have been but…

They had a history. They weren't entirely strangers, and she wanted to know what he'd been up to, if he was willing to share it with her. She wanted to know how he'd gotten to Manhattan from Oxford. She wanted to know how he'd gone from law to architecture. She wanted to know what the tattoos she saw peeking out from the rolled up sleeves of his shirt meant.

And surely, _surely_ she couldn't be the only one? He'd seemed surprised to see her, but he didn't seem adverse to her.

"Well," Laila said, breaking her out of her thoughts as Kristi pouted, "I think that's big of you. Just… Be careful, Natalie."

Natalie smiled again, grateful for her friend's support.

"I will be. I've learned a bit since high school, believe it or not."

She wanted to start fresh. They had both probably changed a lot, and she didn't know if they would be compatible anymore, but she wanted to try.

Her own junior-year boogieman aside, she had yet to find a personality she couldn't click with.

She felt almost a little giddy with the thought. It would be fun and reminiscent, to see her old best friend, even if they couldn't ever be what they used to. But she didn't mind that. They had both moved on, they had made new friends, they had had new flames.

They were different people now, but she knew she hadn't changed the core of who she was. She was hoping he hadn't, either.

She glanced over her shoulder, where her phone rested dead on the floor where she'd forgotten to put it on charge last night.

She had done her part. She could only hope that he would do his and reach out to her.

Lucifer skimmed through his contacts, until his finger came to rest over her name. He pressed the call button, and held his breath…

...And it went immediately to voicemail.


	7. Chapter 6

" _So I want to say I'm sorry that I drew the line. I built the wall, the fault is mine._ "

—"I Want To Say I'm Sorry," Andrew Peterson

* * *

"You know better than to try to plant stuff here. Kristi will just kill it when you leave."

Natalie threw a look over her shoulder, pouting at Laila as she leaned out the window, her hands buried in the flower pots that adorned the apartment, potential wasted.

"I'm doing it anyways," she muttered indignantly. "At least while I'm here there will be some life in this apartment."

"Believe me, you're all the life we need here."

Natalie huffed a laugh as Laila moved around the small studio.

"By the way, Mike called. He's coming over later," she called, raising her voice to be heard over the sounds of the city. Natalie gasped, jerking back inside and slamming her head on the window pane. "Careful! Don't you dare break my window."

"Mike!" Natalie cried, ignoring her. "I haven't seen him since I got back."

"Yeah. Poor guy sounded heartbroken."

"Oh, stop with that." Natalie closed the window, raising up and rubbing her wrist against the sore spot on the back of her head.

Laila shook her head, leaning her back against the counter. Mike had been in love with Natalie practically since the day he'd met her, and everyone could see it but her. She always brushed off her and Kristi's well meaning shoves in the right direction as jokes, dense as she was.

Part of Laila wondered how much of her obliviousness was real, though, and if maybe some part of Natalie knew and kept it up to keep from outright rejecting him as a way of protecting his feelings.

But Kristi still thought he'd be good for her, and Laila knew her efforts to get them together would only be doubled since Natalie dropped the bombshell on them that Lucifer had come back into her life. She was probably the one who had urged Mike to drop by, now that Laila thought about it.

The upbeat tone Natalie had set up on her phone interrupted the brief silence, as Natalie had come around to wash her hands in the sink. She dug the dirt out from under her nails, glancing over to where her cell rested on the counter, piquing Laila's curiosity.

"Expecting someone else?" she asked.

"No," Natalie said, a little too quickly, turning her attention back to the sink.

"Is that so? No call from Lucifer yet?"

"..."

Laila narrowed her eyes at her. Natalie turned the water off slowly, glancing between her and her phone. There was a beat, a moment of nothing, and then both lunged for it.

"McAllister! What have you been hiding?" Laila asked as she snatched it off the counter, and made a dash for the couch, Natalie hot on her heels, hands still dripping.

"Nothing!"

Laila rounded the couch, putting it between them, and Natalie slowed, looking for an opening.

"This doesn't look like nothing. This looks like Lucifer Abidan's name in your phone and not a word said to me or Kristi." She paused, and Natalie took the time to wipe her palms on her jeans. "Well, not telling Kristi is probably a good idea."

"I told you I gave him my number," Natalie protested. "It wasn't a secret."

" _No_ ," Laila said, "but you _didn't_ tell us that he actually contacted you. Giving someone your number and having open communication are two very different things, McAllister."

Natalie pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, chewing it nervously. Laila arched an eyebrow at her, before tossing her cell back to her with a sigh. She didn't blame her for not telling either of them. Kristi would probably lose her shit if she knew they were actually talking.

"Just be careful, Nat."

"I _am_ ," she assured, a bright smile replacing the uncharacteristic worry. "It's not like anything's going to happen. We're just catching up."

They had been best friends their whole childhoods, and though he'd hurt her, part of her still cared about him. It was hard to completely let go of a connection like theirs, and if he was willing to put in the effort to catch up on all they'd missed of each other's lives, too, then it was all the better.

"Well, fill me in." Laila sat cross legged on the couch, grabbing a pillow to hug to her stomach, and gestured for Natalie to do the same. Natalie's grin only widened, as she took the seat across from her.

"I mean, it's not much. It's only been two, n— wait… three days since I ran into him."

" _And_? When did he call you — or text you, whatever."

"I think… he called thaaat day?" Natalie said, drawing out the vowels as she tried to recall.

"You _think_?"

"Well, it was when I told you about running into him. My phone was dead, remember?"

Laila hummed, arching an eyebrow as if to say she didn't really remember, but to continue anyways. Natalie stared at her, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, and Laila waited patiently. It was obvious that Natalie had something to say, and it was only a matter of if she decided she should share or not.

But if there was anything Laila knew about Natalie, it was that the girl was an open book who couldn't keep a secret to save her life.

She would tell her, in 3… 2…

"We're going to get coffee tomorrow," she burst, with all the breathlessness of someone who had run a marathon, as if her short bout of inner conflict had left her exhausted. Laila smiled to herself at Natalie's predictability, setting her elbows on the pillow on her lap and folding her hands beneath her chin.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I — it's hard to make up all those — all that time, over text… y'know? So I suggested—"

"So _you_ suggested," Laila interrupted with a lilt to her voice that made Natalie blush.

"It's not _like that_!" Natalie protested with a pout, then shifted to face Laila entirely, sobering up. "Not all high school sweethearts are meant to be. It clearly wasn't, and that's alright. It's been _years._ But he was my best friend, and I…"

Laila reached out to lay a hand over Natalie's.

"You don't have to explain. I get it," she said. Natalie smiled gratefully, thankful she didn't have to struggle to find the words. "You do what makes you happy."

"Thank you."

"Anytime. But, uh, Nat?"

"Yeah?"

"You know you're going to have to figure out a way to tell Kristi."

"...Yeah."

"Hey, Luce, did you finish repairing the model of the St. Louis skyscraper?"

Lucifer ground his teeth at the use of a nickname that was unapproved and unwelcome, but turned to face the architect addressing him, anyways.

"Not yet," he said, working his jaw. Model building itself was fine, Lucifer didn't mind getting to manipulate the layout of a brand new structure. Repairing one, however, was a tedious, mindless task that he was struggling to stay focused on when there were countless other things he could do instead.

He didn't understand why he couldn't just make a new one.

"Who was the idiot who broke it, anyways?"

"Beats me. How about those renders?"

"Goddamn, Uri, give me a moment to fuckin' breathe."

Uriel was a small man but a big pain in Lucifer's ass. He was constantly demanding something, as if he didn't have anything better to do than bug the intern, and he preferred to go by a shortened version of his Biblical name.

Which was probably why he decided that Lucifer must be in the same boat.

Lucifer thought, on more occasion than one, about calling him by his full name just to flip the table on him, but he wasn't trying to make enemies this early on, and Uriel was apparently pretty high up the scale. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and he didn't want to fuck it up.

Not to mention his self-proclaimed father figure, Khalid, would personally fly from Egypt to kick his ass if he did.

And if he lost this, he would probably have to start travelling again. He didn't know what kind of employment he'd be able to find in New York, so sticking around long-term would likely not be in the cards for him. He needed to stick around at least long enough to build up the courage to offer Natalie an explanation, for all those years of radio silence.

He owed her that much.

"I need them within the hour," Uriel said, and Lucifer hummed as the shorter man walked past him. The moment he turned the corner, Lucifer rolled his eyes, falling back into his chair and rubbing the bridge of his nose to ward off the oncoming headache.

He had a good gig set up here — a steady pay, and while there were the typical intern jobs, such as repairing models and finishing up renders, he was also allowed in meetings where Adair, when present, was always quick to ask after his opinions, and he had already been brought along a few times in the field. He wasn't just the errand boy and he was grateful that his mentor seemed to be serious about opening a few doors for him in this career.

That didn't mean some days didn't grind on his nerves, though. Especially the last few, when his mind had been otherwise… occupied. Renders were the last thing on his mind when his biggest regret was staring him in the face.

He ran his hands down his face, unwilling to admit that he was nervous about their outing the following day. He didn't know what he was going to tell her. He didn't know what he _could_ tell her.

Their back and forth in the three days since they'd run into each other had been superficial at best. Nothing said on either side had been very revealing about what the last few years had entailed for either of them, besides Lucifer telling her he'd been travelling and Natalie telling him that she was on the way to becoming a botanist and that she had a summer job at a little flower shop not too far from the coffee shop they'd met in.

There was a lot to talk about and none of it could be properly conveyed over a text. Hell, he wasn't even sure it could be properly conveyed in person, and he'd never been good with stuff like this to begin with.

Not to mention that, for all intents and purposes, they were entirely unfamiliar to one another now. It had been too long, he knew he had changed and he was sure she had, too. Who were they now? They were nothing but glorified acquaintances with a rocky history, and he was to blame.

So how did you tell a stranger you were sorry for breaking their heart?

He sighed, dropping his hands from his face when he heard footsteps that were inevitably Uriel's coming back around the corner. He glared at the screen in front of him, before pulling up the renders that were being so desperately sought after that day and pretending to tweak them.

"Finally. Thanks, Luce," Uriel said, and Lucifer repressed the urge to lock his jaw again, taking a deep breath and letting the nickname roll off of his back. He had bigger things to worry about today.

"Yeah, sure," he muttered, not looking up from the computer until he was sure Uriel was gone again. He relaxed back into his chair and shook his head to clear it of his lingering anxieties.

He had time to figure out what he was going to say. For now, maybe the concentration needed to complete the renders would actually be a welcome distraction instead.


End file.
